If leftovers could talk, here’s a conversation between cranberry sauce and stuffing, on the day after Thanksgiving.

Cranberry: Hey there, hot Stuff, what’s the word?

Stuffing: The word? Ouch! If I get probed one more time, I’m going to initiate mold production.

Cranberry: I…I don’t understand.

Stuffing: Nobody uses utensils in this family. They just dig in with their grimy fingers and have their way with me, like I’m some second-class leftover that’s been languishing since September. It’s humiliating.

Cranberry: At least they’re interested. Nobody seems to care what I have to offer.

Stuffing: But, you’re beautiful! All bright and shiny. If I weren’t so consumed with my own plight, I’d be all over you.

Cranberry: That’s what they all say. But, the truth is, I’m just a one-day stand. No better than eye-candy. I pretty up the plate, add a little zip, and then it’s over. I feel so used.

Stuffing: Ah, Cran, give it a chance. Soon, they’ll be making turkey sandwiches. Won’t they want you then?

Cranberry: You would think! But, no, they never remember. I just get pushed further and further back. Let me tell you, it’s no picnic being back here with month-old tuna salad. Talk about a foul attitude.

Stuffing: Shhh! Somebody just opened the fridge. Brace yourself, Cran, it could get rough.

Cranberry: Nah, it looks like he’s going for the potatoes.

Stuffing: OMG, he’s using his whole hand to scoop the potatoes – like a crane!

And he keeps looking over his shoulder. What’s that about?

Cranberry: He doesn’t want to get caught by the missus. He knows how fried she gets whenever he uses his fingers.

Stuffing: Holy contamination, look what he’s doing now. He’s ripped off a piece of turkey with his mouth and is now dipping it in the gravy. What a beast!

Cranberry: Rumor has it they ravage the leftovers when everyone is sleeping. Apparently, his wife’s cousins all look like linebackers, even the women.

Several have won pie-eating contests. Newborns tip the scale at 15 pounds. Get the picture?

Stuffing: Everything makes sense now…the shoveling with the fingers, the cross-contamination between leftovers, the over-the-shoulder glances. Poor guy. His digestion must be a mess. No wonder he burps like a water buffalo.